


Sword Play

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Swords, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wants to research. Dean wants to play with swords.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sword Play

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Supernatural is owned by Kripke and the CW and only Chuck knows who else. I’m not making anything off of this.
> 
> Warnings: Wincest, Season 8 Spoilers from 8.13.
> 
> A/N: This was inspired by THAT scene from episode thirteen of season eight. It was also written for m homebrewbingo card. The square is “Swords & Sword Play”
> 
> This brilliant opus and its mistakes are all mine.

“I hate you,” Sam told his brother. It wasn’t true. Not really, but damn… Surrounded by tomes and tomes of knowledge, and all Dean could do was twirl around in some dead guy’s bathrobe? Play fighting with some dead guy’s scimitar? To the tune of some dead guy’s record of “Sabre Dance”?

“You love me,” Dean corrected as he pretend fought some dastardly villain.

Sam harrumphed and focused back in on his book. The sound of Dean’s feet pitter-pattering on the floor as he pranced about was distracting though, so he made the mistake of looking up. Dean, of course, noticed.

He flashed his brightest, smuggest grin at him and thrust out with his scimitar. Then he rocked back and forward and back and forward and…

“Are you twelve?” Sam demanded.

Dean waggled his eyebrows and started swirling the tip of his sword ever so slightly.

“Dean, quit trying to be suggestive with your sword,” Sam sighed.

Dean’s free hand came up to splay across his chest. His eyes widened and his mouth opened as if in shock. “Me?”

“Dean,” Sam tried to imbue as much threat into his voice as possible.

“Admit it. I have a nice sword, Sammy,” Dean purred.

“Oh. My. God.”

“It’s really nice. I’m just saying. These Men of Letters dudes? They had some nice stuff. Of course, their boxers were a little too starched for comfort, but…”

“You are not trying to tell me you’re naked under there,” Sam stopped him with a stern glare.

“What? This place is like, half mine, right? A man can’t go commando in his own home?”

“Your underwear is your own business,” Sam agrees, “as in your business, not mine.”

“Come on, Sam. You missed me. Admit it.”

“I can’t miss you. We live together.”

Dean frowned and ran his fingers up and down the length of his blade. “Not what I meant,” he said with a shake of his head.

“We shouldn’t. It is a bad idea. Also? We’ve tried it before.”

“We’ve done it before because it was always a good idea and remains a good idea,” Dean corrected. “Just because one of us keeps dying or disappearing into mysterious portals…”

“I can’t believe that we’re debating this,” Sam interjected.

“You’re right,” Dean agreed as he pulled the sash on his robe, letting the folds of it flop open. “We shouldn’t be talking about it when we could be doing it.”

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he covered his eyes. He needed to be researching. Dean was a distraction.

“Going to give me a complex if you keep that up,” Dean teased as he sauntered closer, his robe swaying as he walked, showing skin and then hiding it just as fast.

Sam might’ve covered his eyes, but his libido wasn’t above peeking. “Dean,” he protested weakly.

The tip of Dean’s sword rested against the top button of Sam’s blue plaid shirt. “Don’t make me show off for you. You know how good of a, well, swordsman I am.”

Sam pulled his hand down and tried to glare at his brother. He really did. But Dean flicked his scimitar quickly; Sam’s button went flying and somehow Dean’s robe ended up covering the long wooden table as Sam reminded Dean that he wasn’t so bad of a swordsman himself.


End file.
